Lessons of Rura Penthe
by Starsinger
Summary: In one of my stories, Jim goes off on his own after Tarsus IV, and ends up on an independent (insert pirate) freighter. He also fixes a generator and gets a share in the Dilithium Mining/Prison Planet of Rura Penthe. This is that story.


**Lessons of Rura Penthe**

by Starsinger

**In one of my stories, Jim goes off on his own after Tarsus IV, and ends up on an independent (insert pirate) freighter. He also fixes a generator and gets a share in the Dilithium Mining/Prison Planet of Rura Penthe, a Klingon Prison Planet for those of you who may not know. Go see Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country for more information about how we found out about this little "gem". So, here's what happened. Don't own them, or the Klingon Empire, or Rura Penthe…**

"DAMN IT!" Jim cursed at the generator, he was sooooo tempted to kick it to see if it would help. He didn't, forgoing the broken foot it probably would have caused. He was fifteen, still growing into what would eventually be his six foot frame, long, lanky, and tough as nails. He was also being stared at by six Klingon guards who either wanted to kill him or laugh at him. He wasn't really sure which.

How had Jim ended up on Rura Penthe? After escaping Tarsus IV and Governor Kodos' death sentence, he went home. Frank kicked him out. That was fine, he didn't want to be there anyway. He traveled the globe, picked up a Master's Degree in Engineering in record time in Moscow. Learned Russian, Farsi, Swahili, Spanish, and a smattering of French while he was at it. Unfortunately, he'd also stolen the car of the pro-consul general of Altair VII, or something like that, while in Kenya. A warrant was issued for his arrest, and he fled Earth by stowing away on the freighter Stella, owned by one Captain Hardcourt Fenton Mudd.

Harry caught Jim when Jim got tired of listening to the racket his engines made and fixed them. Rather than kicking Jim out the nearest airlock, Harry listened to his story, and signed him on as the engineer. Which meant he had to keep the bucket of bolts together and running. This arrangement worked well, and in the subsequent year and a half, Jim had earned a substantial amount of credits because Harry felt a loyal crew was a well-paid crew. Jim had nowhere to spend them as he wasn't particularly interested in the cheap booze and even cheaper women Harry seemed to find at every spaceport they stopped at.

They'd ended up on Rura Pente when Harry heard about the fabulous ice wines made by the prisoners there. They didn't make any, but the Klingons were desperate. The generator that kept everyone from freezing broke, and Harry negotiated. Jim fixed the generator, and they received a stake in the mining facilities. Warden Korton immediately agreed, and that's how Jim found himself fixing a generator at least a century old.

Like most Klingon technology, it was "borrowed", and no one had bothered with how to fix it. Engineering was a job for those menials who couldn't become warriors. This meant they were basically up a creek without a paddle. The generator looked faintly Centauran. Jim jumped as Harry poked his head through the hole in the roof of the prison, "How's it coming, Jim! Got it fixed yet?"

"It looks like they tried to fix it with two pairs of pliers, a screwdriver, and a hammer," Jim muttered.

"Can I get you anything?" Harry finally asked.

"Yeah, two pairs of pliers, a screwdriver, and a hammer," Jim repeated with a shake of his head. Harry chuckled as he ducked back through the hole, "If you find a sonic screwdriver, send it up too!" Jim called. Harry stared at him, perplexed, before continuing his downward journey. "Never watched the Doctor," Jim muttered under his breath. Harry returned with everything but the sonic screwdriver and Jim attacked the machine again, both pliers in his hands, the screwdriver in his mouth, and the hammer under an arm. Two hours later the damn thing hummed back to life.

Cheers rose from the nearby Klingons as "Qapla'" could be heard being shouted. They took him down to the main dining hall for the guards. They pounded on his back and sat him down at the table of honor as the Warden and Mudd negotiated. The Klingons decided he was too young and skinny for something called "Blood Wine" and fed him Raktajino, the Klingon equivalent of coffee, instead. Jim sipped it carefully, not really wanting to be bouncing off Stella's walls when he returned.

Food was set in front of Jim and he soon realized that it was still alive. He swallowed carefully before using his finger to pick it up. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever had to eat. The Warden rose in a toast, "To our guests, thank you for your services. Jim, you will receive 100 shares in Rura Penthe. You are now a very wealthy man. Best fortune to you and your endeavors. Qapla'!" The toast echoed around the room.

The next day as the Stella sped away from the Klingon Prison, Harry looked at Jim with some admiration and respect, "I'm stopping by Egalos V, Jim, we're picking up a state of the art engine for the Stella. Might just put you out of a job."

Jim shrugged, "I'm rich now, doesn't matter much. Why don't you get a new ship? It'd be cheaper."

"I might just do that," Harry said with a chuckle. It was a very good day.

**I'm not a Whovian, but I have watched a little bit of it, so I know what a Sonic Screwdriver is. Hope you liked it, please R&amp;R.**


End file.
